Chapter 1 #2
“You are to be wed to the Duke of Holdridge,” he explained, as he topped up his glass and continued to seem very pleased with himself. “Word just arrived that he was able to gain a special license, which is a fine cause for celebration.”
Sure enough, the black cloud of an ill temper that had been following him for the past few days appeared to have vanished entirely, leaving him back in his sunny, selfish disposition.
“The duke means to pay a hefty bride price for you,” he continued, “and he has declined your dowry, so who am I to refuse? You see, all will be well. You will be a duchess, Dorothy will not be destitute, Kenneth will keep his inheritance, and I need not sell anything at all. My debts will be no more.”
“No…” the word came out of Thalia’s mouth as a muffled croak.
Her father chuckled. “Yes, daughter. You will be married in four days’ time. It is all arranged.”
“No,” she repeated, louder this time. “This… cannot be. You cannot… plan my future without saying anything to me!”
Shrugging, her father sipped. “I am telling you. Right this very minute. There would have been no point in telling you before news of the special license arrived, or it might have been too late for us all. The debt collectors were very insistent that they would not wait much longer.” He grinned.
“Now, they do not have to. The moment you are married, your bride price and the money from your dowry will pay for everything.”
Thalia stared at her father with a rush of pure hatred in her veins, and as silence stretched between them, it was quiet enough to hear the sound of all of her dreams shattering.
“You would betray Mama like this?” she spat, her hands balled into tight fists at her sides.
It was the only card she had to play, though she doubted it would have any effect.
Her father had finally found a use for her; there was almost no chance at all that he would change his mind.
Heaven forbid that he should be the one to fix his own mistakes and the mess he had made of their intertwined lives.
“I am saving her children from poverty; it is what she would have wanted,” he replied, a faint flicker of guilt flashing in his eyes for half a second before indignance replaced it.
Thalia tried not to shake as she shot back, “No, Father, what she wanted was for me to marry for love. It was her dying wish. You were there; you heard her say it, and yet you would disregard it so easily? Surely, there is another way to pay your debts. There must be another way! Have Kenneth marry; he is the eldest!”
“There is no other way,” he replied simply. “Unless, of course, you would prefer your siblings to suffer terribly because you are too proud to make this sacrifice for us all?”
They both knew that she would not do anything to jeopardize Dorothy’s future health and prosperity in particular.
They both knew that, in truth, Thalia had no choice in the matter: she would sacrifice herself, and her own health and happiness, if it meant that Dorothy could have a chance of a better life, able to be whatever she pleased, and do whatever she pleased.
An opportunity to fulfill their mother’s dying wish.
“You are despicable, Father,” Thalia spat, unwilling to hold back any longer.
“You have no decency, no honor, and no regard for anything but yourself. You are a selfish, weak-willed little man and I shall forever be sorry that it was Mother who died instead of you. You shame her, even now. Indeed, you were never worthy of her.”
To any other father, such words might have ignited a savage temper or a punishing slap, but Gibbs Carter just drank his drink and shrugged his shoulders as if he had some manner of twitch that he could not control.
“If you are quite finished, you may leave,” he said with a smile. “Indeed, I should be getting back to my guests, inform them of the happy news.”
He grabbed a bottle of his best port from the shelf behind the desk and, brandishing at Thalia in an amused fashion, he breezed out of the room, humming a jaunty tune to himself. As if he had not just ruined the life of his eldest daughter.
More fool you. I will not merely bow my head and obey you. At the very least, I will meet the gentleman that I am apparently commanded to marry.
Perhaps, he would be more reasonable than her father. Perhaps, an agreement could be reached. Perhaps, it would end the same way, with her married to a stranger, but at least she would know that she had done everything within her power to fight for an alternative.
With that fixed in her head, she hitched up her skirts and took off at a sprint, heading for the stables and the coach house.
“Mr. Oxlade! Mr. Oxlade, what is going on!” Thalia shrieked, her fingernails digging into the velvet upholstery of the carriage squabs, her feet braced against the opposite side in a vain attempt to hold herself steady.
The driver did not reply; he likely could not hear her above the din of the clattering wheels and the frantic whinnies of the horses.
Heaving herself toward the window, holding tight to the door handle, she peered out into the darkness to try and understand what was happening.
About two minutes prior, the carriage had slowed, almost to a halt, and the driver had called out as if hailing someone.
About twenty seconds later, the carriage had suddenly lurched forward, speeding along at a breakneck pace, swaying violently upon the uneven night road.
She yanked the window down and stuck her head out, looking back to find that they were not alone: two riders were giving chase, which accounted for the driver’s sudden, intense speed. A carriage could not hope to go as fast as unhitched riders without taking some immense risks.
If Mr. Oxlade thought we might be in danger, then I must trust him.
It was her last thought as one of the juddering wheels suddenly struck a ditch and snapped clean off, bouncing away toward the pursuing riders. The carriage pitched, and she barely had time to tuck her head back into the safety of the interior as it tipped all the way, crashing toward the ground.
She was thrown like a sparrow in a fierce gale, sharp pain splintering across her skull as her head hit the wall… and then, there was nothing but a sleepy daze that pulled her into darkness and the distant nicker of frightened horses.